


hello, emilie

by azalera



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Canon Compliant, Could Be Read As Polyamory, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Light Angst, Queer Character, Queer Themes, in which nathalie adopts a cat, in which nathalie is in love with emilie agreste, in which nathalie is queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azalera/pseuds/azalera
Summary: In a world without Emilie Agreste, Nathalie Sancoeur finds an unusual way to cope.
Relationships: Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur, Emilie Agreste/Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	hello, emilie

**Author's Note:**

> I realized approximately 5 hours ago how invested I am in Nathalie and Emilie. This is the result. Naturally, what started out as a short crack fic turned into something a little more serious.

Nathalie sits in the backseat of a Parisian cab, a cardboard box perched in her lap. She cradles the sides with her small, callused hands, and hunches forward as she peaks inside. Emerald eyes stare back. 

“This is the address, miss.” The driver peers at her from his rear-view mirror. Nathalie nods. She pats down her pockets, checks her bag, and then picks the box up by the handle. 

“Thank you,” she says, and shuts the side door behind her. The front gate opens at the touch of her key, and then she hurries across the property and into the Agreste mansion. 

At the top of the staircase, a mewl echoes from the cardboard box, and Nathalie freezes. She turns her head left and right, up and down, and then finally allows herself to relax and breathe. The coast is clear. 

Her bedroom is at the far, far end of the second floor. Nathalie treks along the railing with deft, measured steps, and in a few minutes she reaches the safety of her sanctuary. She shuts the door slowly, avoiding so much as a squeak, and then turns the lock clockwise. She empties her pockets and hangs her bag, and then she crouches low to the floor, sets the cardboard box down on the carpet. Nathalie stares, and stares, and finally pries open the lid.

A dainty cat steps out from the box and preens her white coat. Nathalie immediately turns to the corner of her bedroom to set up a food and water bowl. When she opens the bag of kibble, the cat tiptoes closer and paws at Nathalie’s pantleg. 

Nathalie nods. “Hello, Emilie.” 

The cat stares up at her expectantly, and Nathalie pours the food into the bowl. She rubs behind Emilie’s ears and along her chin—and then comes to an abrupt stop and pulls away when Emilie begins to vibrate at her touch. 

Nathalie looks at her bedroom door, and then back at the cat, and then slowly, hesitantly, scratches her chin. The vibrating continues, and a small smile emerges, for just a moment, on Nathalie’s face. And then she straightens, and looks down, and waits. Emilie returns to munching on her food. 

“I’ll return as soon as possible,” Nathalie assures. Emilie simply continues to eat. 

As soon as possible turns out to be several hours, and Emilie turns out to be an impatient cat, because it is three-quarters of the way through a virtual meeting when what must be a loud and incessant meowing echoes down the long hallway, through the household, and becomes a soft squeal penetrating Gabriel’s office. 

Luckily, if the sound traveled through the microphone and into the virtual meeting, no one said anything. 

“Nathalie, do you know what that screeching is?” Gabriel asks, rubbing at his temple. 

_It’s Emilie,_ Nathalie thinks, but keeps that thought as far away from the conversation as possible. 

“I’m not sure, sir. I can take care of it now, if you’d like?” 

“Yes, immediately.” 

Nathalie nods and sets her tablet down. She is gone not more than five minutes, and it is silent for not more than an hour before the sound starts up again. 

“Again?” Gabriel groans, glaring in Nathalie’s direction. 

“Apologies, sir. It seems a cat is on the property.” _Not a lie._

“A cat? Hmph. Hopefully it stops that maddening mewling soon.” Gabriel returns to his design folders, examining the papers. 

Nathalie lets out an internal sigh of relief and continues typing away at her screen. 

By the time Adrien has been picked up from school and is practicing his Chopin, the mewling, thankfully, subsides. And Nathalie is halfway to her bedroom to check up on Emilie when the latest Akuma of Paris is shouting in the streets and causing tremors to shake the earth. Nathalie purses her lips and sprints in the direction of Adrien’s bedroom. 

“I’m okay, Nathalie! Thank you!” Adrien calls out when she knocks at his door, and Nathalie clutches her tablet. She stands guard at his door, but her gaze drifts, occasionally, towards Gabriel’s office. 

When the tremors stop, Nathalie’s conscience brings her back to Gabriel. She rests her hand on his shoulder, briefly, and Gabriel leans into it, briefly, until marching to the opposite side of the office. 

“I must succeed, Nathalie.” He looks out the window, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I know,” she replies. “You are not alone. I would do anything to have her back.” 

He dismisses her with a wave of his hand, and she nods at the back of his head before taking her leave. 

She stands outside his door and stares down the hallway. The mewling begins again, ever so soft, resonating through the hallway. 

The pressure burrowing into her shoulders loosens, weighing her down just a little less. She accepts the long, long journey to her lonely little bedroom at the end of the house, and when she opens her door she finds Emilie curled up beside her pillow. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're going to adopt a cat to cope with the loss of the woman you love, reliving the trauma every day by naming it after her probably isn't the healthiest thing to do.


End file.
